Blood Work

"Welcome home!" I said to my mother and Roby this morning when I came downstairs and saw that they were home. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was really nice. We took some pleasant walks in the snow. I'll be glad to get back to eating regular food though. We ate out all the time, and the breakfasts they made us at the bed-and-breakfast were very good, but fattening! That's OK, though. It was our honeymoon."

They showed me pictures of the place they stayed at, and video from the wedding.

This afternoon I went to the local hospital to get my blood drawn. I left my car in the parking garage, and walked up the hill to the hospital. I wonder how older, sick people make it up this hill, I thought to myself. I walked at a brisk pace to escape the cold. Once in the hospital, I walked to the right and entered the laboratory.

After signing in, the woman behind the window said, "You can come on back." I stepped through the doorway and took a seat next to the receptionist.

"Do you have an order slip?" she asked me.

"No, it's a standing order."

She looked through a file cabinet and found my doctor's order. "Diagnosis? OK, it says it here: Crohn's disease."

"Yes," I confirmed.

I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease approximately four years ago. At the time I was feeling constantly worn out, I had abdominal pain, my appetite was non-existent, and I was losing too much weight. (The most common symptom of the illness is persistent diarrhea, but fortunately that has never been a serious problem for me). After various tests, my doctors told me I had an inflammatory bowel condition called Crohn's disease. I've been taking medicine for it ever since. Right now it is in remission, and I feel good physically. I have blood work done every month to make sure the disease is still in check.

"OK, we're all set here. The technician will draw your blood now."

I followed the technician back to the second room on the right.

"Have a preference of which arm?" he asked.

"No, whichever looks better to you."

I am not too squeamish when it comes to getting my blood drawn, and he was skilled at his job, so after a little prick, we were soon done, and I was on my way.